


MediEvil Drabbles (2019)

by Lancre_witch



Category: MediEvil (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, M/M, plus one ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-09-27 09:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20405617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancre_witch/pseuds/Lancre_witch
Summary: The MediEvil drabbles I've written this year. Currently contains the following characters: Sir Daniel, Kiya, Al-Zalam, original witch characters, Zarok. Includes one crossover with Legacy of Kain.Each chapter title is followed by the characters in brackets for ease of navigation.





	1. Prologue/Monologue (Al-Zalam)

Al laid back on his makeshift hammock and knocked gently on Dan's cranium.

"Do you ever wonder about it all, Daniel? The meaning of life - or death in your case?"

He waited. No reply.

"Not into the heavy stuff? How about a joke? Funny anecdote? How about the one about the man who walks into a bar with a tiny musician in a box..."

His voice echoed around the tomb, sending spiders scuttling for the deeper shadows and disturbing the dust of decades, yet winning no response from the corpse of the knight who had laid there for sixty years.


	2. Under Wraps (Kiya)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An October Drabbles prompt I never filled last year.

There were matters of succession to be dealt with. It did not do to worry the ruling heads with this minor hiccup along the road to the king's next life. No one needed to know about the bride who had refused to follow him there.

No hand over her mouth this time. The princess would do no harm biting the cloth of a gag. No need to worry about bruising her as she struggled - the embalmers would take care of that, leaving her pristine for him.

The poison worked quickly enough, but still best to keep some things under wraps.


	3. The Box (Sir Dan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt from Necrobopolis, "A crate arrives dressed to Sir Daniel, it is thoroughly bolted shut"

The crate arrived covered in postage labels, this way up signs, and a large 'handle with care' label which was half torn off. The most worrying part was the bolt on the top.

He almost dropped it when something inside started moving and making muffled noises.

Dan placed it carefully on the kitchen table and used the point of his sword to draw the bolt back. When multi clawed death failed to spring out, he opened the lid gingerly.

Bright green eyes stared at him from between bandages. It seemed that Kiya's ex-husband had relented over custody of the cat.


	4. Rusty Cauldron (Graveyard witches)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another late October prompt.

The old rules said thirteen to a coven, but those days were long past. Two had been enough for many years. Then another, half apprentice and half daughter. Three was a good number for cemetery witches.

Two lives had been cut short in battle and another almost given to the river in her grief. Even with one still living, the coven had died that day. The last witch left the grounds to the gravediggers and the souls in the care of the priests.

There was nothing left of the coven that had watched over them but a hollow hill and a rusty cauldron.


	5. Old Bones (Sir Daniel/Raziel)

Old bones have no tears to weep, no matter the tragedies of their dust choked lives. They have no lips to speak of love or loss. They cannot cry out and beg not to be forgotten. All words for them are chiselled into cold stone or sung in churches under an open sky. The living are silenced by more than six feet of churchyard soil.

In a tomb that claimed to house a hero two skeletons lay side by side in the comfort of one another's arms. False hero and raggedy Messiah, their silent embrace would speak throughout the centuries.


	6. Fate's Shadow (dark!Kiya)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @memedievil on tumblr got me thinking about Kiya as a villain, resulting in a ficlet a bit too incomplete to post on its own but still worth sharing. Warning for character death in this one.

Kiya sat in a quiet corner of the lab and tried to think. The chill of death hadn’t abated. Her mind felt as cold and clear as splintered ice. The fires of her rage had not burned themselves out, but had crystallised in place, perfectly preserved as they had been at the moment of her death. It was the difference between a hearth fire and the flames that drive a turbine.

She was lost in this new world, but she clung to the few certainties she knew. Palethorn had to die. He wanted her as another pretty prize, and she would know no peace until he was in the ground. The men she was with were little better. She was a prisoner in all but name, kept safe from the dangers of freedom until the knight returned.

Kiya pummelled her terror into the back of her mind. If a follower of Anubis’ path couldn’t best two meddlesome fools squabbling over a spell book, then she might as well go back to her grave now.

She flicked through a stack of papers - notes of failed experiments covered nearly every surface here - and something caught her eye. Now this could be useful. Why settle for the book when she could find the author? With that power she would fear no one in this world or the next, but how to gain access to it?

*

The streets were dark and cold, and Kiya strode down them in search of a killer. So many things could go wrong, but Daniel had a good heart, and she had it in her hands. She had taken a handful of precautions, a small wooden statue to hold her life as it left her, and a flyer left with the Spiv, along with a handful of coin for delivering it. It would have to do.

She didn’t scream when she found the beast that was once a man. She didn’t weep for the lives he had stolen. The fallen women would be avenged soon enough. Kiya felt no fear when the Ripper stabbed her.

Lying dying in Daniel’s arms, the embalmer felt the change. The world spun in a moment of paradox, and the grateful princess threw her arms around her saviour.

Daniel never noticed that her eyes were fixed on the time machine behind him. He had eyes only for her.

He was sweet, and he was useful, and he didn’t notice when she turned a dial while she kissed him after the battle of the cathedral.

The time machine flew back 500 years, and north several hundred miles, coming to rest mere hours before the last great sorcerer’s defeat. Looming over the craft, Zarok’s spell-wrought dragon form lunged at his ancient enemy, and that, more or less, was the end of the Hero of Gallowmere.

“What are you?” Zarok asked once the sound of breaking bone had ceased and Daniel’s empty skull had bounced away across the floor.

“I’m the person who brought Fortesque to you.” Kiya tilted her head and looked critically at the creature he had made of himself. “Now let’s discuss delivery fees.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was as far as I got before I ran into the problem of needing a plot, except for this little snippet,
> 
> _Kiya idly picked the skull up from her desk and tossed it from hand to hand.  
“You were good to me, Daniel. You gave me everything I needed, even the shadow demons.”_


End file.
